


suicide policeman

by mulletgirl



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Caring Billy, Depression, Enemies to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Neil Hargrove Being an Asshole, Period-Typical Homophobia, billy helps steve with school, billy wants steve to be okay, kind of, mentions of abuse, steve has depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:41:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24690229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mulletgirl/pseuds/mulletgirl
Summary: they've both got problems, they both need someone. so when you think about it, it's the perfect fit.or, billy is told he has to tutor steve and he notices that the pretty boy isn't smiling as much as he usually is.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 24
Kudos: 235





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> tw for abuse and depression and slight suicidal thoughts, also some slurs. 
> 
> title is from the song by yuck, its beautiful.
> 
> enjoy, i tried my best.

Steve couldn't pinpoint when it all started. He couldn't decide if it was before the monsters or after. Maybe it was the years of almost non-existent parenting that bogged him down with loneliness. Or maybe it was that night, the 'bullshit' night. Come to think of it, that was probably the boiling point. The feeling had been around for years but Steve chose to ignore it, chose to attend parties and get high to distract himself but then came the monsters; the endless sleepless nights and the constant fear. And then Nancy broke his heart. Without a second thought she took everything they had, everything he was, and ripped it to shreds. Then it was like a whirlwind, he couldn't remember most of it. Just weeks and weeks of feeling the same way; numb, exhausted and totally worthless. Surprisingly, his parents noticed before anyone else. They told him they would always be there for him and that he was perfect, they took him to the doctor and then they left for another painfully long business trip without a word. The doctor slapped a diagnosis on him like it was nothing. Depression. Steve had never really thought about depression before. He only ever associated illnesses of the mind with loony bins and psychopaths. He never imagined that he would have to face one and that's why he found it so hard to believe. He refused to accept that he was ill in the head, even as his whole body ached and he cried out just to feel something nice. The doctor gave him some pills to take which remained untouched on his bedside table. See, it was rare that Steve ever actually got out of bed, it was extraordinary if he ever left the house and it was a miracle if he ever dragged himself to school. And so he was failing, he was failing hard. That's how he ended up here, in the principle's office sat next to Billy fucking Hargrove. 

"Look, boys, I know neither of you will like this but it has to be done." The principal was fidgeting in his chair, the glare that Hargrove was shooting at him was enough to make anyone scared. "So starting tomorrow Billy will be tutoring you, Steve, in math and english."

Steve guessed that he would eventually have to be tutored and he knew that Hargrove was surprisingly clever but was there really no one else? Jesus, Steve would rather sit through Nancy lecturing him on how he'll never be smart. His eyes burned holes in the ground as he tried to ignore Billy arguing with the principal, he was shouting and it made Steve's cheeks burn red; he couldn't help but feel like an actual child. His eyes glazed over slightly and he thought about how disastrous it would be to cry right now so he closed them, tight. He felt utterly useless, stuck in a room with two people arguing over his hopeless stupidity, his name flying around in conversation with arseholes who hadn't even acknowledged him in the last ten minutes. He welcomed the familiar ache back into his heart and sank further into his chair as he drowned in the thought of Billy Hargrove trying to put up with his run-down mind. You see, he would've been fine with anyone else but Hargrove seemed to be the worst person in his life at the moment. Billy hated Steve for literally no reason, claiming that he was a better 'king' than Steve even though Harrington himself had already admitted that. Billy enjoyed taunting him in practice and everywhere they met. Not to mention he almost killed Steve at the Byers house that one time. But perhaps the worst thing was that Steve thought Billy looked like some Greek God who was visiting Hawkins. Steve knew he was a little queer, whatever, but to be honest he didn't have enough energy to fight it anymore. He thought he was doing pretty well with ignoring it until Hargrove arrived looking like he was sculpted out of fucking gold marble or something. Billy was gorgeous and any sane person would agree. This was a problem for Steve because every time he looked at Billy, every time Billy smiled or spoke; it broke Steve's heart. Because he knew he could never have him. Steve couldn't count the amount of dreams he had about Billy where he'd woke up crying and so when he was at school he would do everything in his power to avoid Hargrove. If you can't see it, it can't hurt you. Right?

"Harrington!" Billy's loud voice forced Steve to focus on the room again. The principal and Hargrove were staring at him, Billy was on his feet and he looked like he wanted to punch Steve in the face. His heart sank.

"What?" Steve mumbled. His voice was croaky and he noticed that it was probably the first time he'd spoken in a day. 

"The hell is wrong with you? We've been speaking to you for five minutes." Billy almost shouted. Steve couldn't help but chuckle a little, it wasn't the first time he'd tuned the whole world out. Steve shrugged, speaking seemed like too much work for him right now. He noticed the way Billy's eyebrow furrowed in confusion. He listened to what the principal had to say. They'd come to some sort of conclusion; Billy would tutor Steve every Tuesday and Thursday and in exchange he won't have to go to a single detention in the coming weeks. Steve just accepted that his opinion on all of this didn't matter. Hargrove stormed out and Steve pulled himself out of his chair, nodded when the principal asked if he was 'feeling alright' and trudged out of the room. 

*******

Billy was late, as usual. But he didn't care. When the school bell rang he sauntered around for a bit, flirted with his physics teacher for a bit, went outside to smoke, told Max she'd have to skate home and then finally meandered his way to the school library. With a sigh and a lazy roll of his eyes he opened the door and looked around for Harrington. He found him in the far corner with his head on the desk, completely curled in on himself. Billy thought for a split second what could possibly be making Harrington so tired, thinking back to what he was like in the principal's office; totally asleep to the world. He threw a book down on the table which made Harrington look up and fuck, Billy had never seen such an exhausted face. The bags under Harrington's eyes were so deep and dark they reminded him of the bruise Neil had given him last week. He was paler than usual and Billy hesitated to move any closer in case he caught flu or something. Steve's hair was greasy, total blasphemy to his usual perfect brown locks. He felt uncomfortable, something about the Steve Harrington he was looking at made him uneasy. 

"Wake the fuck up Harrington," Billy started, maybe a little too sharp for the boy who looked like a walking corpse he was talking to, "I think we'd both agree that we need to get this over with as quickly as possible." To that, Steve nodded and he cleared space on the table for Billy to dump his stuff.

It had been about ten minutes, literally just ten minutes and Billy was already getting annoyed. They were covering the math that Billy had been taught over the last few weeks and he knew that Steve would've been taught the exact same shit so it was infuriating that he was so hopeless. Billy knew he should have sympathy or empathy, whatever, but it didn't make any sense. Steve was in high skill classes and he was smart, anyone could tell you that, so the fact that he needed Billy to repeat the same fucking question a million times was insane. 

"Harrington, what the hell?" Billy spat out when Steve got the answer wrong for the fifth time. "Dude, you're not dumb you should be getting this stuff down easily, the hell is going on?" 

A wash of hurt quickly ran over Steve's face and he tried to cover it with an eye roll, but Billy saw. His stomach twisted painfully. 

"Don't you think if you missed weeks of school you'd be pretty stuck as well?" Harrington asked, way too defensive, way too abruptly. 

"What?"

"Duh, i've missed like two months of school. I'd say in the last eight weeks i've been in for four days at the most. Did the principal not even bother to tell you this shit?" Steve looked embarrassed, his cheeks flushed red and he averted his gaze. Billy was taken aback, he was kind of pissed that he didn't even notice Steve's absence. How could he not have realised King Steve was totally MIA? 

Billy just shrugged. He could read people easily and he could tell Steve didn't want to say anything else on the matter. Usually he would pry anyway, simply because he was a jackass, but he left it this time. Just this once, he told himself. They resumed the tutoring but five minutes later Steve was trying to answer a question that he was clearly lost with. Billy tried to keep cool, tried to explain it but it was so aggravating. He got antsy, jabbing at Steve every now and then until Harrington was notably uncomfortable. Billy cursed to himself. And then, just like that, Harrington grabbed his bag and stood up; mumbling a hasty 'fuck this' before making for the door.

Billy was pissed, he was trying to help. He was doing exactly what the principal told him to but Steve was acting like a little girl about it. Before Steve left completely, Billy shouted "The fuck is going on with you, pretty boy?" which obviously Steve did not reply to and obviously got him kicked out of the library. 

As he was driving home, music blaring, cigarette in one hand, his mind drifted to Harrington and how weird he was acting. Billy thought of the reason and settled on him having cancer or something. Now, Billy's a dick, sure, but he stops when it comes to people who are literally dying. So he made the executive decision to try going easier on Harrington next time. He ignored how the thought of Steve dying made his heart ache and a tear roll down his cheek.


	2. two

Billy wanted to help Steve, well he at least wanted to try and help Steve but Steve was no where to be found. It had been two weeks since the first session in the library and Harrington never returned. Billy never saw him at school so he assumed he'd dipped out again. He worried for a moment that Steve had actually died but then decided he would know about it from gossip already. The smallest part of him wanted to help Steve because he felt bad for him; whatever was making Steve miss school and look so shit was obviously nothing fun. But the selfish part of Billy, the bit that took up most of his mind, wanted to help Steve so he didn't have to go to any detentions and therefore decrease the risk of pissing Neil off. But fuck knows how he was gonna do that. 

He realised he was gonna have to go straight to the belly of the beast and actually seek Harrington out. So when he next dropped Max off at the arcade he whistled slightly, trying to get the guy he needed to look at him. But when he didn't he sighed and cursed to himself, the thought of having to speak to this kid in public made his eyes instinctively roll, and shouted 'Henderson!'.

The kid spun round faster than lighting, the look on his face made Billy snort a little; it was pure fear. For what felt like hours Dustin just looked around as if signalling for help and he kept his feet firmly planted where he was stood. Eventually the penny dropped and he silently made his way over to the Camaro. 

"Uh, yeah?" the kid practically whispered. 

Billy sighed, flicked his cigarette a little, inhaled, exhaled before finally saying,

"Tell me where Harrington lives." 

********

It was a struggle, to say the least, to get Harrington's address out of Dustin. It was almost a full hour of the kid recounting all the shit Billy had done to Steve and telling him that giving up his address would be like sending him off to slaughter. Billy couldn't even blame him, the kid was there when he smashed a plate over Harrington. But when Billy painfully admitted that he actually did want to help and he was maybe, a little, worried about him Dustin hesitantly told him where Steve lives.

Which explains why Billy Hargrove, a rough, good for nothing jackass with not a single penny to his name was driving through the wealthiest neighbourhood he'd ever seen. Every house was like a fucking castle and Billy felt more than out of place. He pulled up the driveway of the mansion he assumed was Steve's and turned his engine off. He sat and contemplated what exactly the fuck he was doing here. He knew it was perfectly reasonable, he had brought all the books and shit he needed to teach Steve and he was just gonna find him and do exactly that. Then Steve would get an excellent grade on his tests and Billy would be praised by the principle, and maybe even Neil. He checked his hair and his face in the mirror, not exactly knowing why but putting it down to his vanity, and then walked up to the door. He knocked politely at first but then pounded on the door two minutes later when no one answered. He knew Harrington was in, his car was in the driveway and he could see almost all the lights on inside. So he continued to knock for about five minutes but then sighed and turned away. He cursed loudly and threw his bag on the ground. He was worried. Steve was a good kid, he could admit that. He was kind and good, he was smart and everyone liked him; or used to. The only reason Billy was a dick to him was because he was always a dickhead to anyone that challenged his popularity. He learnt it from Neil, there is no question about that. He would never tell anyone but when he first met Harrington he was the only thing on his mind for weeks. He couldn't understand why, refused to accept that he might be a little queer for the pretty boy because that exact thing was the reason Neil made him move to the shithole Hawkins. One thing he knew for sure was that he didn't want Steve to die. So he got up, opened the unlocked door and walked straight in. 

Inside the house was even more extravagant then Billy could ever imagine. The floor plan was just absolutely huge, there was an actual chandelier in the kitchen and the living room was the size of his whole house. He scoffed a little when he saw they had two living rooms, each with a television and each with a pool table. He compared Steve's dining room with a huge ass table and another chandelier to his own shitty one where his cheap table was lit by a harsh light that broke occasionally. He nodded in total jealousy and chuckled a little, breathing it all in. Billy made a conscious decision to not take off his shoes in a way to say 'fuck the rich' or something. After exploring the huge back yard with a pool and everything he decided that Steve must be upstairs. There was something like four bedrooms and two bathrooms upstairs. The house was literally just the colour beige apart from some family photos lacing the walls, displaying the Harrington's as a commercial-worthy family. He laughed at the pictures of baby Steve, especially one where he was wearing his mom's high heels and his dad was in the background with a disapproving glare. It shocked him to realise that Steve's hair was not always perfect, he genuinely accepted that 'the hair' was Harrington's middle name. There was one door that wasn't open and so he knocked on it. He heard some light shuffling and then,

"Mom?" That was Harrington all right. His voice sounded defeated and tired. 

"No." Billy said as he opened the door and walked in. He gasped a little as he saw the state Harrington's room was in. It was weird, the walls completely plain and beige except from a single Duran Duran poster, there were plates, mugs and empty beer cans all over the floor which genuinely looked like they'd been there for months. There were scrunched up tissues and junk food wrappers in mountains around his bin, Steve clearly did not make any of the throws reach the actual trash can. Trash can, that's kind of what Steve's room looked like. The curtains were drawn even though it was barely six pm and there were piles of his clothes all over the floor. 

"What the fuck? Get out of my house dude!" Steve shouted, he was sat on his bed cocooned in his duvet and he was staring at Billy with wide eyes, in utter disbelief. "The hell are you doing here, Hargrove?" His voice broke on his name.

"I'm not about to sit through weeks of detention 'cause you won't let me tutor you, pretty boy." For the first time ever Billy felt kind of bad for using that stupid term of endearment that has always been an insult. He had no clue what was happening to Steve, I mean he was totally stumped, but he could tell the last thing he needed right now was to be mocked. 

"I- um," Steve croaked out, clearly trying to think of what to say. Billy looked at him, really saw him for the first time in weeks. He looked _terrible_. The bags under his eyes were obnoxious and dark, his eyes were red either from not sleeping in days or excessive crying. His hair was greasy and Billy scrunched his nose up a little, realising he probably hadn't showered in a while. He was wearing his huge blue sweater and some basketball shorts. Billy's heart sank a little, king Steve looked like total shit. "Hargrove, what the fuck? The world doesn't revolve around you! You can't just come to my house and expect me to sit down and listen to you bang on about how fucking dumb I am!" Steve was stuttering, literally struggling to get his words out. His voice was totally unpredictable, changing pitch and volume every two seconds. 

Billy felt uncomfortable, that was actually an understatement. This wasn't the Harrington that he knew, this wasn't the Steve who would always come back with something witty whenever Billy insulted him, wasn't the Harrington that he bantered with on the court. No, this was someone else entirely. Billy became suddenly aware that he was just stood in the doorway, considered leaving entirely, but decided on moving to Steve's desk chair. Billy sat for what seemed like an eternity just staring at Steve, trying to decipher what exactly was going on with the pretty, rich boy. 

*******

Steve looked everywhere that wasn't Billy. He literally couldn't think straight, this whole situation was actual insanity. He wondered for a second if he was actually dreaming but then remembered he hadn't even tried to sleep in days. He knew Billy was staring at him, probably wondering what the fuck was going on. Steve couldn't blame him; he knew he had been totally unreliable the last few months. The thing that confused Steve the most was that Billy has been the only person to come and see him. Now, Steve isn't expecting people to come by and solve all of his problems but he couldn't help but imagine how nice it must feel to know someone was there for you. He had a call from Dustin about three weeks ago and Steve appreciated that but he was just a kid, there was no way in hell he could understand what Steve was going through. And Hargrove was a total douchebag, there was no way in hell, heaven or another plane of existence that he would understand what Steve was going through. He hadn't even begun to question how Billy had found his address and what consequences that was gonna bring in the future. This whole situation was fucked. 

"So, what have you been doing these past few weeks Harrington?" This forced Steve to look at Billy. He was staring into his soul with those fucking blue eyes. Steve honestly couldn't remember the past few weeks, it was a blur. He knows that for the last three days he hasn't left his bed except to piss and get some beers. He liked his bed, it was the safest place for him. He spends entire days with his head on a pillow, drowning in a blanket, just thinking. Actually, not really thinking. Just, _being_. He knew he was alive, somewhere deep down he could feel the slow drum of his heart and the ache of his brain. Yeah he knew he was alive, but he didn't feel it. He found it almost impossible to move, impossible to eat, impossible to shower and he either didn't sleep for days or sleep was the only thing he did. His mind was full of the miserable buzz that never went away, it made it hard to actually focus on anything because it just made him feel so numb, like a corpse. He either accepted the ache and melted into it, letting his bed hug and support him and his eyes get heavier with every breath or he would be interrupted by random thoughts that made him feel like shit. Like how worthless he was, how wrong his body was, how queer he was, Nancy, how his only actual friend was a fourteen year old. And, fuck it, Billy Hargrove. These were the thoughts that made up all the used tissues all over his room. He remembered Billy's question and just shrugged. 

"Um, where are your parents man?" 

"They left for a business trip four weeks ago." Steve looked blankly at the picture of him and his parents on the wall whilst he spoke. Filled with rage that they just left him to waste away. 

"Parents suck, huh?" Billy tried to humour Steve but the sad boy just smiled weakly in response. He wondered for a second what made Billy say that, and who gave him the bruise on his neck. "Are you ill or something, Harrington, have you been to the hospital?" Billy questioned, the trace of genuine concern in his voice made Steve's heart flutter a little. He just shook his head, knowing Billy thought 'being ill' consisted only of viruses and cancer. 

Billy was shuffling in his seat, clearly uneasy. This whole thing was so awkward Steve could barely breathe and he knew Hargrove felt the exact same way.

"Well, like I said Harrington," Billy began, fishing something out of his backpack, "I don't wanna sit through weeks of detention so I brought this book for you to read," he threw The Picture Of Dorian Gray at Steve, "we're studying it in class." 

Steve picked it up, looked at it for a second, opened it, tried to read but then immediately lost focus, his eyes growing passive. 

"I'm not reading this right now dude." He said, hoping Billy would just nod and leave. He looked at Steve with a furrowed brow, almost _daring_ him to read it. Like it was a challenge. Steve knew what he was doing, he used to do it at practice. Steve threw the book away from him in an attempt to tell Billy to fuck off. His heart nearly jumped out of his throat when the book knocked over his unopened bottle of antidepressants, drawing Billy's attention to them. He sighed and sunk into his bed, under the covers as Billy went to pick up the medication. If you can't see it, it's not real? Right. 

"What are these, pretty boy?" Steve's heart did a flip and a twist at the exact same time. He cringed at the fact Billy had found his medication, his weakness. He sighed. _Why was Billy even here again?_

Steve thought about how to handle this. He couldn't run, couldn't hide. He knew Billy would pester him about this for his entire life. He could feel tears welling up in his eyes. It wasn't manly to have depression, wasn't manly to let an invisible illness eat you up until you can no longer breathe. He inhaled, exhaled. 

"I have depression." Steve barely choked out. He had never uttered those words to anyone in his life. If Billy was a dick about it he would simply never return to school, or he could do the other thing. You know? Hey, maybe Billy would be sympathetic, would cradle him whilst he cried, would protect him from the big black dog that followed him around. 

"Ha! So you're a nutjob Harrington?" Oh, there it was. Billy is a dickhead. Of course that is how he would react. He would probably personally pack Steve off and send him to the loony bin. Steve's heart literally broke, he could almost feel it falling apart inside of him. He felt hot tears roll down his cheek and the painful buzz in his head intensify. He couldn't hear anything, couldn't breathe. 

"Get out." He said, as forcefully as he could. 

*******

Billy knew it was wrong as soon as he said it. Billy knew to not make fun of people with mental illness because that's what drove his own mother over the edge. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temple, the weight of the words he just spoke nearly killing him. He never thought Steve could have depression, his whole life he'd been told it was just a girly thing. Suddenly every thing inside of him twisted and hurt, he was such a dick. When Steve told him to leave he considered it. But then thought about how dangerous it would be to leave Steve on his own right now, when he was clearly broken beyond belief. He nearly left, nearly said 'fuck it' and went to feel guilty at home but he didn't. He picked up the book that Steve had discarded and sat back down on the desk chair. He couldn't apologise, that was just too far from himself. He'd only ever apologised to Neil in his entire life, he was just a natural mean dude. He cleared his throat, checked to see what Steve was doing; he was still deep under his heap of blankets. And he just started reading. He pushed through the boredom of reading a book he already finished less than a week ago and read it to Steve, if he was willing to listen. 

He'd been reading the Oscar Wilde book for fifteen minutes, Steve had poked his head out of his blankets and was staring coldly at Billy. It didn't stop him though. He read past the first chapter when he noticed Steve begin to look sleepy. He kept going until Harrington actually fell asleep. He wondered if that was his first sleep in days. He frowned, still feeling evil about what he said earlier. He does actually have a guilty conscience, unlike what most people think. He left the book on Steve's desk and went to leave. It came as a shock to Billy when he fixed up a sandwich and a glass of water for Steve, he figured the unhappy boy hadn't eaten in a while. He left them on Steve's bedside table. Before he left, he stared at Steve. Even in sleep, he looked sad and it made Billy physically hurt. Pretty boy Harrington didn't deserve shit like this in the slightest, shit like this should only happen to arseholes like Billy. Without thinking, he stroked his hands through Steve's hair; it felt good, felt nice. He would judge himself for that later, not now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is this bad lol? tell me so i'm not embarrassing myself


	3. three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for a couple of mentions of suicide, absolutely nothing graphic but just be careful.

Billy found himself literally consumed with worry about Harrington. It was completely knew for him, caring about someone. Sure, he cared about Max but she didn't need him; Neil and Susan both loved Max, took it out on Billy whenever she did anything wrong. But Steve had no one and Billy could see that, he knows how it feels to be lonely, knows the stare your eyes adopt when you can't see a future, can't see anything but grey tones. And Steve had that stare. Billy's heart literally tore itself apart worrying about Harrington being alone in that huge house with nothing but his thoughts and his fucking sad eyes. He hated it, he hated Steve; he was supposed to but nothing he did could stop his mind from constantly drifting to the pretty boy. Billy wondered about when he started calling him that, and what it actually meant. It made him shudder. 

When he got home after that awful visit to Harrington's he slammed his door and screamed into his pillow. He felt terrible, literally like the worst person alive, for being a dick to Steve. On a physical level he had no idea what Steve was going through but he'd seen it before with his mom, with lonely souls lethargically wandering around California and deaths in his old school. He'd seen Steve's eyes, the misery that adorned his face and the strain in his movements a million times and he knew how dangerous it could be. He wanted to reach out, to cradle Steve and assure him that everything would be fine but he couldn't. It wasn't like him and if Neil found out he wanted to practically cuddle Harrington he'd be dead. His head was totally fucked, he didn't understand a single thing he was experiencing. One second he wanted to punch Harrington and the next he wanted to hold his hand and make sure his heart kept beating. 

He cursed and nearly ripped out his hair as he questioned everything he was. I mean, fuck, he knew deep down he was queer. The reason they left Cali was because Neil caught him and his old friend Bobby making out. Neil made it very clear, painfully clear, that being a 'faggot' would get you nothing but punches and beat downs and so he built up every defence he possibly could to hide his _problem_. And it had worked until this very night when Billy dreamt of protecting Steve from every bad thing life threw at him, dreamt of kissing him silly and holding him. It made his stomach lurch, he still had scars from what Neil did to him that night in Cali and he wouldn't admit it to anyone but Neil's hands were the only thing he was truly terrified of. 

*******

It was a Monday, Billy was at practice and Steve wasn't there. Billy hadn't seen Steve at school all day, it had been three days since he went to his house and every day he couldn't concentrate from worrying about Harrington. Worrying that he was dead on his bathroom floor and no one would know because no one ever bothered to check on him. He felt sick at the thought. There was a new kid on the team, Billy didn't care for him; he looked like an exact copy of Tommy, permanent dumb expression and sleazy eyes. Billy wondered why he was there, trespassing on his team.

"Gather round!" Coach shouted, "This is Jack. He's joining the team, Harrington's out. God knows where he is but he's missed too much, if any of you are in contact with him please let him know."

Billy's heart sank. So Steve was ill and missed a few practices and they're just gonna replace him like he never existed? Not even gonna check on him to see how he is, where he is? He wondered if any of the lousy staff in the school had even questioned what was going on with Harrington, he doubted it. Billy knew that Steve loved basketball and that he was fucking great at it, he was just going through a rough patch but would be back soon, same massive hair, same Bambi eyes and same insufferable attitude. He hoped, fucking wished. 

He considered bringing it up, telling coach that Steve was unwell and would be back soon. But then coach would ask for a doctors note or something and he wouldn't risk letting the dicks on the team know about Steve's situation. If Billy, a guy who knew very well that depression was serious, acted like a total jerk about it then he could only imagine what people like Tommy would do if they found out. So he just hid his frustration and played on. 

*******

That night Billy was dropping Max off at the arcade. 

"I'll be back in an hour, don't be late." He said, stern enough, as she got out of the car. He followed suit, leaning against the hood, Metallica still blaring as he lit up. He wanted to smoke where the horrible smell wouldn't go straight up his nose. Maybe he also wanted to make sure Max wasn't hanging around with the wrong people. She was with the Byers kid and Lucas. Every time he saw that kid he felt bad, he didn't hate Lucas, the kid had never bothered him but he was all over Max and there was one person that wouldn't like that, Neil. If Neil saw Max with Lucas he would blame Billy for letting her out of his sight or whatever and he probably get a few new cigarette burns. So, out of selfishness and a weak ass fear of Neil, he treated Lucas like scum; and it hurt him. But Neil wasn't around right now, something that Billy always struggled to accept, and so he let Max fuck around with whoever she wanted. 

Billy's jaw literally hit the floor when he saw Harrington's BMW pull up. He was like, speechless. Dustin jumped out of Steve's car and muttered something to him, he looked weird, concerned, sad. He must know that Steve is sick. Billy tried to remain cool, apathetic but when Steve looked at him his heart fucking fluttered, or whatever. Billy hated this, wanted to go back to his old jackass self, wanted to make a crack about Steve's depression and laugh about it with Tommy H. But he couldn't. When he saw Steve, looked at him, it made him feel nauseated. Somehow Steve looked impossibly worse than he did on Thursday. The bags under his eyes had grown, Billy wondered if they would take up his entire face soon, and he was wearing exactly the same outfit; big sweater and basketball shorts. Billy wondered if he was cold.

Before Steve could go, Billy practically sprinted over and knocked on his window. When Steve rolled it down they just stared at each other. Billy struggled to find words which came as an actual shock, he'd never had to seek out stuff to say to Harrington. He purposely blew smoke in Harrington's face, hoping it was incite a laugh but Steve just winced. So Billy resulted to tapping out the beat of the Metallica song he could still hear from his car, he always did shit like this when he felt awkward. It was the biggest tell ever. 

"So," he started, chuckling a little, "coach kicked you off the team, huh?" _what the fuck?_ Billy literally wanted the ground to swallow him up. What was his problem with talking to people? Was he that much of a dick that everything he said was cruel? Steve looked at him like he had personally taken out his heart and ripped it up. Billy looked down, not wanting to face up to what he just did. Couldn't he have just said hi? Was that really so hard? _Come on Hargrove!_

"Whatever." Harrington croaked out. Playing it off like he didn't care but the way he fidgeted with his hands and the disappointment in his face told Billy otherwise. This was certainly one of those 'you could cut the tension with a knife' situations. Billy wanted to just run away, to hide away in his bedroom till he didn't feel bad. But the way Steve hadn't driven off yet, the way he tried his best to not look at Billy suggested that he didn't want to be alone anymore. And that was heartbreaking.

"Do you wanna go get high or something, Harrington?"

*******

Steve didn't know why he said yes. Maybe it was because he just wanted to get high or maybe it was because no one, except Billy and his stupid Dorian Gray reading, sandwich making ass, was the only person to acknowledge his existence in weeks. Except Dustin, of course, who only rang him to ask for a ride and struggled to hide his disgust when he saw Steve. He chose to ignore what Billy said about the basketball team, not having enough strength for an argument right now. Billy told him to go to the quarry and so that's exactly where he went, the idea of getting high and speaking to an actual person, even if that person was a dick, made Steve feel the tiniest bit more alive. 

They passed the joint back and forth, sat on the hood of Billy's Camaro. Surprisingly, Billy let Steve put on the Smiths but not without a murmur about how this was 'pussy's music' or something. Steve hadn't smoked shit so good in a while and he was tempted to ask where Billy got it but instead just silently leaned into the gentle buzz filling his lungs and let his favourite songs fill up his mind. It was strange, for the first time in a long while he felt content. Not happy, not okay, just _fine_. It felt like a step in the right direction. This was the first time he'd left his house in weeks, he had Dustin to thank for that; blaring on about how his parents aren't home and if he doesn't get to the arcade soon Max will beat his high record on something or other. This was the first time he's smoked weed in months, he'd missed the quiet chill it gave him. He couldn't help but realise how disgusting he must look, he certainly felt it. Hadn't had the energy to change his clothes or shower in a week. He cringed at himself, wondered when he let himself go so much. The sun was setting, he stared at it. It was beautiful. He hadn't had the time or energy to appreciate anything recently. But like this, with nothing to think about other than the pink sky and his warm lungs, he took it all in. Closing his eyes, he tried to retain this moment in his mind and wished to live in it forever.

"You know I thought you were dead?" Was the first thing Billy said. Steve chuckled drily.

"Me too." Was his response.

They fell back into comfortable silence. They'd never held an actual civil conversation. They weren't friends. So it was easier to just enjoy each others unspoken company, each boy living in their own bubbles. Steve shivered a little, his basketball shorts not keeping him warm in the slightest.

"You look cold, have my jacket." Billy said abruptly, by the time Steve looked at him his jacket was already off. Steve blushed a little, turning away to hide it;probably failing.

"What about you?"

"I don't get cold." Steve wondered why that made him flush. The stupid cockiness of it also made him giggle.

"I...Okay Superman." He slurred out a little, totally high at this point in time. He accepted Billy's jacket and noted the blush that the angel boy had when Steve's hands brushed his, he'd think about that later. The denim jacket completely enveloped him and he wouldn't let Billy know but it made him feel the most warm he'd felt in almost a whole year. Made him gasp a little. 

They sat like that for what seemed like an eternity, Steve wished it could be. Wished that every other day of his life could be spent like this. He frowned when he realised that was impossible.

*******

Billy watched Steve, watched as he took a drag, watched as he closed his eyes and breathed in the world around him. He looked happy, kind of, at least happier than he'd been in a long while. He was gorgeous, that was one thing Billy was sure of. He wanted to reach out, stroke Steve's perfect fucking face and wipe away any tears that threatened to spill out. He cursed to himself. As dazed as he was he felt the thrum of his heart and the butterflies in his stomach clear as day, and that terrified him. They'd smoked enough to be past the point of awkwardness. Now they were talking, words not getting stuck in Billy's throat, they were having an actual conversation. Billy loved it. Steve asked about the basketball and Billy told the truth, Steve lying that 'he hated everyone on the team anyway' and 'he wasn't bothered'. Billy didn't push it. 

At some fucked up point things had gotten personal. This was far out of either boy's comfort zone but neither realised they were going too far until after they'd done it. Steve told Billy that every day was exactly the same. That it hurt to keep his eyes open, keep his head up. That it felt like there were boulders attached to his limbs, making him as heavy as possible. He told Billy that no one cared about him, that he'd been alone his whole life. He said he would take his medication but it was impossible for him to remember. He said he missed going to school, missed getting out but it was almost unimaginable. He let Billy know that his bed was his safe place, a place where nothing could hurt him and so he never left it. Never ate, never exercised, never changed. And Billy told Steve about his mom. The whole world went cold when he mentioned her suicide. Steve looked down, not sure what to say and Billy shuffled about. 

"Do you ever, um," Billy nudged Steve lightly, coughed, "you ever think about hurting yourself, dying?" Billy wasn't expecting it but his voice broke on the last word. He felt like he'd just exposed himself in a way he couldn't really understand. This was all so new to him, he never even asked his mom if she was okay when she was ill. Maybe that's why he felt such a need to keep Steve safe, as an apology. 

"What do you think?" Steve answered, refusing to meet Billy's eyes. It was a yes, obviously. Billy's stomach twisted, his heart broke.

Silence, again. Billy thought he'd totally ruined the moment, that maybe Steve agreed to come out here with him to escape his problems. He almost jumped out of his skin when he felt Steve's head on his shoulder. Oh. Billy inhaled sharply, he didn't know what to do. This was all too close, California, Bobby. Then he heard sniffling and felt his t-shirt getting damp. _oh_. Billy was literally being a shoulder to cry on. This had never happened before, he was usually the one causing the tears. People never went to him for comfort. Almost instinctively he wrapped his arm around Steve and pulled him close. This was okay. Neil wasn't here, they were alone. This was alright. He whispered shit like 'it's okay' and 'i'm here' as if he knew what to say in these situations, he didn't. Steve started shaking, sobbing. Billy could almost feel the pain he was in. His heart literally ached as Steve cried out. Pretty boy was hurting, bad, and he didn't deserve it in the slightest. He didn't stop holding Steve until he calmed down, his fingers even making their way into his hair at one point. Billy had tears in his eyes. Pretty boy looked at him and caressed his cheek. _oh_. This was all too real, all too much. He flinched a little, paranoid that Neil would find them and send Billy away, away from Steve. He coughed and turned away, stroking Steve's back one more time.

"I've gotta go get Max." Billy said, voice quiet and hoarse. Steve looked down, wiped his eyes and then leaned back entirely on the hood of the car. He sighed, looking defeated once again. Steve eventually made his way to his own car, limbs dragging behind him; boulders. Before Billy left he turned and said, "Be careful, pretty boy, you know 'cause you're stoned and everything." Steve nodded "and, look Harrington, if you feel really shit just know that you're not on your own, or whatever," Billy cursed at himself again,"come and find me, I've got loads more weed and we can just talk shit out. Okay? Fuck." Billy let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding and drove away as quickly as he could. 

Billy worried his lip between his teeth, thinking about Steve in that fucking mansion. Steve sank back into his bed and turned off the light. Max asked where Billy's jacket was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed!


	4. four

Steve woke up the next morning with Billy's denim jacket still on. He smelt it, fucking breathed it in. It smelt like cigarettes and cheap cologne, Billy. Steve let out a little whimper, everything hurt. Nothing was new there. He knew he scared Billy off but he was too tired to feel bad about it. He had a perpetual 'fuck it' attitude. See, his mind was totally messed up. It was broken in all sorts of places and needed fixing. So he found it hard to judge situations, he found it hard to think straight, to properly control himself and to give a damn. No matter how much sleep and rest he got he was constantly exhausted. Hence why when he felt himself falling totally head over heals for Billy Hargrove, he couldn't do anything to fight it off. Instead he just accepted it and added it to the list of things that hurt him. 

So he laid in his bed, cuddling Billy's jacket like it was Billy himself. He was such a screw up. He wondered what his parents would think if they saw him right now; greasy hair, bedroom that resembled a dumpster, skin and bones and snuggling with another boy's denim jacket. He chuckled. He considered going to school and decided that if he would go in it would have to be in the afternoon, because right now he couldn't move. Life was just loads of that for Steve, ifs; if he got out of bed, if he had the energy, if he felt okay, _if he made it to tomorrow._

He tossed and turned in his bed for hours. His whole body ached. One thing they never told him about depression was that it would hurt like being hit by a truck. His arms and legs throbbed, his stomach hurt, he was restless but at the same time fucking lethargic and his head felt so full he worried about it exploding. He stared at his room, he did this a lot, just stared. His eyes were too tired to actually focus on anything so he just looked at stuff without really looking and it sucked. His room was grey, the light from outside casting an ugly drab shine on the room. He sighed, _when did life get so colourless?_

He decided he should go to school for at least one class. It would be the first time in a few weeks, if he was still King Steve he would be excited for all the attention but now no one even noticed he was gone. He knew he needed to get better, the idea of a normal life literally made him drool. And he did really try to get into school as much as he could, sometimes he would succeed and sometimes he wouldn't. He had history and biology that afternoon, he could do that. So he literally dragged himself out of bed, threw on one of his own jackets, changed out of his shorts into some jeans and left. Just like that, it almost felt like one swift movement, like he was just sadly coasting through the day. He got into his car and drove to the school. He parked next to Billy's Camaro and wondered why he was actually there. Maybe it was to try and get back to normal or maybe it was to see the person he was in love with, whatever. He walked to his history class, just now acknowledging that the class would already by half done, and walked in. All eyes were on him, obviously. It made him acutely aware of how fucking terrible he looked, he hadn't showered in probably two weeks, hadn't brushed his hair in even longer. He literally felt sick at the thought. Tommy H was looking at him with an amused smirk, he probably thought he'd been off for a month having an affair with a local hag. Yes, Tommy was that shallow.

"Mr Harrington, thank you for joining us." His teacher said, with a horrible phoney tone that made Steve roll his eyes. He had been at the school for five minutes and already wanted to crawl into his bed again. He payed no attention and walked over to his seat. He knew people were staring, could feel disgusted eyes boring into him, but he just ignored it, he knew what he was getting himself into. The class went quickly, mainly because his eyes were doing that looking-not-looking thing and he was just half focusing. Walking to his next class even more eyes were on him, not because they knew he'd been missing and were shocked to see him. No, it was because he looked like a skeleton with eye bags darker than ever before and gross hair. Nancy looked at him with sad eyes, pity, like she _understood_. Steve rolled his eyes and pushed past her, he didn't have the energy for any lectures on how to combat your inner saboteur or whatever bullshit. Ha, _bullshit_.

Biology was okay, it was manageable and he sighed with relief when the bell rang. On his way out he passed the library, Hargrove was in there. Steve groaned, it was a Tuesday. Steve was surprised that Billy was waiting for him, considering he hadn't showed up to any sessions since that first one. It made him blush a little. He questioned if it was a good idea and walked in. Like I said, he found it hard to control himself. He wasn't gonna walk away from an hour with the one person that made him feel alive. Billy fucking beamed when he saw Steve, it made his knees go weak. He shouted a 'dude' when Steve sat down opposite him with an awkward chuckle.

"Good job, Harrington!" Steve nearly cried right then and there. No one had ever congratulated him for getting to school and he hadn't realised how much he needed it until now. Fuck yeah he deserved to be congratulated, getting into school was like climbing up a mountain for Steve. He just shrugged his shoulders and acted like that wasn't the nicest thing someone has ever said to him. Billy immediately got out a math textbook and started teaching. Steve tried to keep up, really tried his best. But his eyes did their thing and he'd missed so much school that it was all a total mindfuck. He was scared that Billy was gonna shout at him or get annoyed, that was literally the last thing he needed. He was not expecting a sympathetic look.

"You sleep at all last night?" Billy questioned.

"A little."

"When was the last time you ate?"

God Steve was so close to breaking. He felt like a dam being held together by band aids. He couldn't even remember when he last ate, he just kind of forgot to. He didn't realise how hungry he actually was. He shrugged. His own mother didn't even check in to see if he ate or slept, why was Billy fucking Hargrove doing it?

"Look let's call it a day," Billy looked around the room as if he was questioning what to say next, "I'm gonna make you dinner dipshit."

Steve literally melted.

"No, dude, don't be stupid." Steve croaked out, holding back tears with every damn defence left in his body. "Just go home. Don't waste your time on me." He meant it, kind of. He felt like a burden enough for being the reason Billy had to stay back every Tuesday and Thursday.

"I don't want to go home." Billy said, abruptly. Steve stared at him, trying to figure him out, stared at the bruise on his jaw.

"I...Okay." _No control._

*******

It was a risk, caring for Steve like he was a child or something. But if Billy didn't do it, no one would. He followed Steve home, his head throbbing with fears and doubts, his heart beating too fast. He knew exactly what he was doing, he was saving Harrington's damn life. He knew the idiot wouldn't eat on his own accord, wouldn't take care of himself. Billy was still trying to figure out why exactly he cared so much; he was sure if this was Tommy H he would just tell Carol to look after him. He was sure he could go find Wheeler or Mrs Henderson right now and get them to help Steve. But he wouldn't, because _he_ wanted to help Steve.

By the time he reached Steve's, he had devised a plan of action. Both boys walked in and as a shock to Steve, Billy went straight upstairs. He walked, determined, to Steve's room and grabbed some fresh clothes. He pretended to not notice his denim jacket on the bed. Finding the bathroom, he turned the shower on and placed the clothes on the counter.

"Okay Harrington, go get a shower. You look like total shit." Steve stared down at his shoes, Billy fucked up again. He sighed and hit Steve on the shoulder, careful not to snap him in two. "Look, Steve, I know you don't want to but I promise it's for the best. Just do it for me?" Billy's heart literally throbbed as Harrington looked at him like he hung the stars or something. He really didn't have anyone else.

"Yeah." Steve whispered and shuffled away. Billy let out a huge breath and lent on the kitchen counter for support, his heartstrings pulling every which way until it made him dizzy. When he heard the bathroom door shut he snapped back into reality and started cooking some food. He cooks for Max almost every night, told himself this wasn't weird, that this was just like cooking for her. He found a record player, located a Smiths album and put it on. Steve's favourite. He fixed up some mac and cheese, he wasn't hungry but he figured it would help Steve if he knew he was eating too. When Steve returned his hair was wet and he looked like an actual lost puppy. Billy had to literally stop himself from picking Steve up and shielding him from everything bad and twisted.

"The Smiths?" Steve asked, voice soft and sounding a little more refreshed than before. Billy nodded and smiled when Steve started humming along to _What Difference Does it Make?_. They both sat down and ate, neither of them spoke but it was a comfortable silence, it was nice. Steve ate everything which filled Billy with relief. 

"Thanks, Billy." Steve sounded like he was about to cry, come to think of it that's what he usually sounded like. He wondered if that was the first time he ever referred to Billy by his first name, it sounded nice coming from his lips. Sounded like home.

"Anytime, pretty boy."

"Why do you call me that?" Billy nearly choked. He tried to think of all ways this could pan out. Just decided on,

"Because I hate you." It was sarcasm, Billy knew it was sarcasm and he hoped Steve did too. He looked up and was blessed with one of the loveliest sights ever. Harrington was laughing, actually laughing. It was so weird but it filled Billy with joy. They talked for a couple of hours, about total meaningless shit. Neither of them wanted to get real, it was for the best. Billy noticed that Steve was practically falling asleep around the same time that _The Smiths_ came to an end. "Wanna try get some sleep?" He tried his best to not sound totally patronising.

"Right, yeah." Steve pushed himself up and made for the stairs. Billy did the same and reached for the door. It felt kind of abrupt, like the end of something nice. "You know," Steve started, Billy turned to face him, "if you still don't wanna go home you can crash here, there's spare rooms." He lost volume as he finished, clearly very unsure of himself.

Billy thought about it. Thought about what Neil would think. What Neil would do. Then he looked at the boy stood opposite him. In his pyjamas, looking totally minuscule in the massive house around him. His Bambi eyes had the first sign of life Billy had seen in a long,long time. He thought about leaving pretty boy all alone when he was vulnerable, when he needed someone. Thought about calling Mrs Henderson because he didn't want to risk Neil finding out. Realised how selfish that was. Took one more look at Steve, he had actual desperation in his eyes. It sent Billy spiralling.

"Sure."

********

This was leaps and bounds for both boys. Their relationship had never been like this, they had never cared about each other. They spent months glaring at each other in the halls, shoving one another, using each other as a punching bag. Billy hadn't acted this way since Bobby in California, hadn't been tender, gentle. And he was terrified that Neil would find him, would slap the life out of his eyes and drag him kicking and screaming away from Steve. And yet here he was, two in the morning, creeping into Steve Harrington's bedroom to check that he was asleep, to make sure he was still breathing. He wasn't even aware he was doing it until he was stood in the doorway. There was some strange pull towards the sad boy, something that Billy couldn't fight off. He felt such an overwhelming love for him, he cursed under his breath for admitting that. Love simply didn't fit his character. But no matter how hard he tried to call himself a fag or a queer he still found himself staring at the pretty boy who looked so fucking gorgeous, sleeping contently and nuzzled into his favourite denim jacket. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope this wasn't too bad aaa, it's currently two in the morning.


	5. five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ayo final chapter!

Billy was gone when Steve woke up the next morning. He had left some toast and one of Steve's pills on his bedside table. Steve literally swooned, he had never had this kind of care before. He'd lost count of the days where no one even bothered to acknowledge his existence, where he was left to fall apart more every day, where he was left to fight the most ruthless demons all on his own. And he knew that there would be many more days like that, he knew that he was too broken to be fixed straight away. Knew that no matter how sweet Hargrove was, he would still be ill for a long while. It was scary but he took comfort in the fact that he wouldn't have to go through it alone. Loneliness had always been his biggest enemy. Loneliness meant the only person who could cradle him was his depression. Mr Depression, as he called it. Mr D followed him everywhere he went, he would catch Steve when he fell, lure him into bed, into safety. It was a clever trick and Steve fell for it every time. His depression would tell him to 'follow me', Mr Depression would tell him that he lived in a magical world with nothing but sunshine and rainbows. He would say that Steve would fit in perfectly. Steve had never followed him, not totally. He had gotten on a train, a bus or got in his car. He'd been on his way. But there was always something in the road, blocking the traffic. Maybe it was the promise of a new The Smiths album, the happy faces of the kids, the fucking ocean eyed dick who was nothing less than intoxicating or maybe it was because he just wanted to outlive Tommy H. Whatever it was, he'd never reached his destination, and secretly he was so fucking glad.

It was a no school day, Steve knew that from the off. He couldn't get out of bed, couldn't even reach the toast Billy had made. He knew it would do him no good to miss more school but he'd learnt to stop punishing himself for the things he couldn't control. And so he rolled over, wrapped himself in that denim jacket and squeezed his eyes shut.

*******

Billy couldn't stop thinking about Steve. He wasn't even sure when it happened but he'd become totally infatuated. He dreamt about his doe eyes and his gentle nature, dreamt about holding his hand and fucking him, driving him to California and watching the sunset on the beach. He wanted to spend every single moment with him but he wasn't stupid, Neil would find out. Neil ruins everything. But something had changed in Billy, sudden and fast. He'd seen the vulnerable boy, eyes always ready to cry, voice timid, hands just looking to be held and something in his heart had shifted. The hard exterior of his soul had melted, a little, only for Steve. And he was okay with that. He wasn't gonna leave Harrington, wasn't gonna leave until Neil dragged him by his toes out of fucking Hawkins. He wanted to save him, to make sure that he saw life and love again, to be his prince charming. 

Billy noticed Steve wasn't at school. He missed him. Sometimes he cringed at himself, he thought he might never be able to kiss Harrington. He wondered if Harrington only went for prissy bitches like Wheeler, only went for girls. The thought felt like a shot through the heart. He wanted to see Steve, wanted to see if he'd gotten out of bed, wanted to see if he'd taken his medication, eaten anything, he wanted to make sure he wasn't lying on his bathroom floor with sobs choking him. He could never be sure until he checked. So at lunch he ditched the cafeteria and drove to Harrington's.

He could've just walked straight in, he knew Steve never locked the front door. But for some reason that felt intrusive, maybe because last time he did that they got into a fight. So he picked up a pebble and, in true teenage fashion, he chucked it at Harrington's window. It took about three pebbles for Steve to peek out of his curtains. He looked like a ghost in some sort of haunted castle, when he saw Billy he smiled ever so slightly. He gestured for Billy to come in. Billy practically sprinted up the stairs.

"Hey princess!" Billy almost shouted, sounding far too enthusiastic. Steve chuckled, Billy blushed. That's just how it worked.

"The hell has gotten you so excited?" Steve questioned. Billy shrugged, refusing to meet his gaze, overcome with insecurity all of a sudden. He'd been getting too swept up in his fantasies, he'd almost forgotten what reality was like, "Aren't you supposed to be at school?"

"I guess," He said, picking up the cold toast he made Steve that morning and eating it. He'd skipped breakfast, and apparently so did Steve. "I don't have anything interesting this afternoon so I thought I'd just bunk off."

Steve looked at him in disgust as he ate the stale toast, it made Billy beam.

"So you thought you'd come here and eat all my food?"

"Exactly."

Steve looked a little better he guessed, he wasn't very good at judging this kind of thing. He definitely had a bit more of a glow to his skin than he did last week. He was speaking though. They were falling into easy conversation again and it made Billy's heart flutter. He loved it when Steve looked comfortable, when he was living enough to engage. Billy told him about how Carol had a new boyfriend and how Tommy had gotten into a stupid fight that very morning with a fucking freshman. Steve threw his head back laughing at how much of a douche Tommy H was. It was _beautiful_

"Do you wanna watch a movie?" Steve suggested when the conversation became tired.

"Absolutely." Billy would do anything Steve asked him to.

********

They were watching Beverly Hills Cop, Steve had found some fries and shit and they were having a nice time. Billy could figure out how Steve's mind worked, it was the same with his mom. See, often times people think that the mentally ill are always sad or moody but that's not right at all. Billy's mom was completely distant on some days, she wouldn't leave the house, wouldn't talk to anyone and he heard her crying for hours. But there were moments, walks on the beach and road trips, where she seemed to be the happiest person alive. On the outside she would smile and her skin would glow and her eyes would sparkle. And of course Billy never really knew what she was feeling on the inside but he knew one thing, that in these moments she felt just fine. And this was clearly one of those moments for Steve, Billy would even go as far to say he looked truly happy. And it warmed Billy so much he could feel a blush all over.

"You look good, dude." Billy couldn't help it. He was overcome with happiness that Steve was looking less like a dead body and more like the pretty boy he remembered from months ago.

"Thanks." Steve muttered, awkwardly, and giggled. He looked at Billy and Billy looked back. He was staring so hard into those stupid Bambi eyes he worried for a second he'd get lost in them, but then he realised how perfect that would be. Steve was an angel, he was beautiful. Billy thought it was actually quite rude how fucking cute he was. His hair was messy and loose curls fell over his face, Billy wanted to reach out and brush them away. He was wearing another big sweater, purple this time, and those same basketball shorts; sat cross-legged on the couch. He was always fidgeting with his hands, his hands were lovely. Long dainty fingers and pale skin, freckles. Billy found it hard to breathe when he was looking in Steve's eyes like this. He questioned how long they'd been sat like this, just staring at each other. It could've been thirty seconds and it could've been ten minutes. But neither of them were looking away. That is until there was a loud noise on the TV and Steve snapped his head away, visibly curling in on himself and blushing profusely. Billy sighed. 

Then his mind wandered to where it always did in times like this, Neil Hargrove. If he knew what Billy was feeling he'd literally slap his brains out. He did it back in California, he made gorgeous, innocent Bobby watch as Neil pummelled his fists into Billy's face at the speed of light. He only stopped when Billy fell unconscious, when Bobby said he'd call the police. Then he fucking dragged Billy up like he was a rag doll, threw him in the car and a week later they were on their way to Hawkins. Ever since, he'd learnt how to control himself. How to hide his feelings like a fucking perv or something. It made him feel dirty, like a criminal. He hadn't kissed a boy since Bobby. He'd fucked enough girls to convince Neil he'd straightened up. Neil would never know that he jerked off to the thought of sharp muscles and chiselled jaws almost every night. Maybe what scared him the most was what Neil would do to Steve. He didn't dare touch Bobby because he had a respectable dad who could literally kill him. But Steve's dad didn't even seem to exist and Harrington literally looked like he was made out of glass. Neil would shatter him, would tarnish his name, put shame on his family and then _hurt_ him. And Steve was hurt enough as it is.

"Billy? What's wrong?" Steve's voice forced him to snap back into reality. He didn't realise he was fucking crying. He cursed at himself. Tried to laugh it off.

"Nothing,princess. Just thinking about how much of a loser you are." Steve didn't even chuckle, just looked at him with pity or whatever. It made Billy's skin crawl, but he _wouldn't_ get angry. Not with Steve anymore. He awkwardly wiped his tears, time seeming to move in slow motion and threw Harrington one of his trademark smiles. Steve was smart, he knew not to press it. So he just turned away and fidgeted more. Neither of them even noticed the film was over until the tape started playing again.

"I think I'm gonna go to sleep now." Steve whispered, getting up. The room was tense again, something had shifted and both boys hated it. That was obvious. Billy nodded and headed to put his shoes on. "Hold up, come upstairs one second so I can give you something."

Slightly confused, slightly nervous Billy followed Steve blindly upstairs. The two boys went into Steve's room and Steve picked up Billy's denim jacket, held it out to him. Oh. Billy gulped down whatever excitement he had stuck in his throat, he didn't know what he was thinking, and grabbed his jacket with a nod. Billy glanced over at Steve's room, still a pigs sty, and walked away. 

"Wait, Billy, I..." Steve started, grabbing Billy's wrist and pulling him back. It sent electricity through Billy. He breathed in, and out. "Well, you don't have to but you look sad and I just wanted...well...can I give you a hug?" Steve stuttered out, looking at the ground. Billy went weak at the knees, his heart suddenly burning, hurting. He didn't want Steve to see him as vulnerable, as soft. He told himself that this would be purely for Harrington and hesitantly nodded. Steve breathed in, out. He walked closer, carefully, calculated and wrapped his thin arms around Billy. It was kind of like the dam got busted, for both boys. The second their chests touched they each softened immediately, all tension just disappearing. It was warm, Billy felt all fuzzy and nice. Steve had a few inches on Billy and he, not really listening to his brain, rested his head on the taller boy's shoulders. He never wanted to let go, Steve felt perfect holding him. He wanted it forever. He couldn't figure out why, maybe it was all his emotions just exploding or it was the feeling that someone cared about him for once but he felt a few tears escaping, silently. Maybe it was because this was the first time someone had really held him since his mom died, except of course all the airhead girls who threw themselves at him. He breathed it all in, savoured it.

Steve was the first to let go, obviously it wasn't gonna be Billy, but he just stood and gazed at Billy. It literally set Hargrove on fire. Neither boys really knew what was going on. There was plenty of 'ums' and 'ehs' to fill the silence. 

"Billy..." Steve breathed as he reached a hand up and cupped Billy's cheek. His fingers traced the outline of a tear. Billy inhaled, sharply, gasping for air. This was so much, so close. Billy couldn't help but lean into the touch though, he'd never been treated like this before. Never been treated with _love_.

"Stevie...I" Billy rasped out, he suddenly couldn't speak, couldn't breathe, couldn't think. All he could see was Steve and his doe eyes, his porcelain skin and his plump lips. He wanted to count all of his freckles, wanted to touch his eyelashes, he wanted everything. Steve was so close, so impossibly close. His hand moved up and his fingers curled in Billy's hair. Inhale. It was euphoric. Exhale. Steve looked like he was about to cry and Billy wanted to know why, wanted to make sure he was okay but he couldn't do anything. He was paralysed under pretty boy's gaze. Steve took another step forward, somehow getting even closer, drawing Billy in with him. It was so dark, the only light coming from the moon shining through the window. But in that light, Steve was divine. Every one of his features was softer, more delicate, more heavenly. He wanted time to stop, he wanted to be stuck in this moonlit scene with Steve forever.

"Please..." Steve uttered, sounding pained, desperate. Everything inside Billy tumbled over and over. He could feel himself going dizzy as he reached his own hand around Steve's waist. It was like he was in a trance, moving without control. Then Steve moved in and before Billy could even know it, their lips connected. Billy's whole body tensed up, in pure shock, before he quickly melted into the kiss. No dream, no fantasy could've prepared him for how Steve tasted. It was like carnivals and ice cream, like everything pure in the world. He wanted more of it. Billy deepened the kiss, holding Steve so tight as if to say 'I'm never gonna let you fall'. A little noise escaped Steve's mouth as Billy ran his hands under Steve's sweater, taking in all of that perfect skin. In return, Steve messed his hands with Billy's hair which is something Billy didn't know he needed so much. This was pure bliss. And Billy couldn't quite believe it.

As it intensified, neither boy letting go, they stumbled onto Steve's bed. Billy kissed along Steve's neck, his collarbone. Steve's moans were literally the prettiest noises Billy had ever heard. He kissed every single freckle on Steve's radiant skin and breathed all of him in. They gawked at each other. This was like nothing he'd ever experienced before. All the girls he'd fucked in Hawkins just look at him with hunger and nothing else. But this, this was love. And Billy adored it. 

"Thank you, Billy..." Steve whispered, a tear falling out of his eyes. He was so gorgeous Billy could faint. "For everything." Billy held him so close, so close that he knew just how safe he was. He never wanted to see Steve cry again. And so he kissed away every tear, kissed away every demon that was in Steve's head at that moment. Through kisses and gazes, Billy silently promised to be Steve's protector. To save him from the monsters. 

********

They were laid out on the bed, Billy was holding Steve. Holding him like he would never let go. Steve let his head rest against Billy's chest as he tangled his hand in Billy's. They fit perfectly. Steve smiled. Actually, smiled. He let that sink in. The feeling of real happiness after nothing but pain for so long was overwhelming. He inhaled and fluttered his eyes closed, felt the thrum of his heart against his chest, exhaled. Just like that two broken boys, fragile and gentle, made an unspoken agreement to hold each other forever. And it was magical. Steve knew it wasn't over, knew that tomorrow he'd probably wake up with an ache in his soul and a buzz in his brain. He knew he would spent hundreds more nights crying and riding on that train to happy land. And he knew that one caring boy couldn't cure a disease. But it was okay. He wasn't scared anymore. He knew that Billy would fight for him, would cook him food and administer the medication. He knew that Billy would take his dying skeleton and give it life. And he was excited for that.

"You're gonna get better Stevie, don't worry. Baby steps."

"Baby steps."

He pressed both of their hands against his heart and he nuzzled into Billy's body. Steve closed his eyes with contentment for the first time in a long while and drifted off to sleep, safe in the arms of his prince charming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! thank you so much for reading, this is my first fic so i know it's not great but i hope you all enjoyed and i had fun writing it! aaaaa


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